Wednesday, April 22, 2020

New Beginning free essay sample

New Beginning by S. C., Canton, CT February 12, 1998: One, swallow; two, swallow; three, swallow sixteen, swallow. Seventeen pills down the hatch. Ouch my stomach is starting to hurt; my mouth is getting dry. Whats going on!? Wait, is this real? Mom Mom, I did something. The police are here; the ambulance is coming up the street. Oh my God! This is real! Im in the ambulance; all these devices are attached to me. Why is my heart beating three and a half times a second? Why do I keep passing out? Why does he keep slapping my face? Mom, dont cry. Oh, Mom, I love you. Im so sorry, Mom. Am I going to make it? Why wont they tell me? All I need to hear are the words, Youll be okay. Those words arent there. Im in the hospital; doctors, nurses, everyone is taking care of me. We will write a custom essay sample on New Beginning or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Im so sorry; I cant believe I did this. Everyone asks me questions. How many? Did you take anything else? Any alcohol? Here, drink this. Charcoal! Two cups in 30 seconds; Ill do anything to live. Very sick irony. At midnight I am served two more cups of charcoal. No damage internally. You can leave as soon as you talk to a psychiatrist. Hello, Dr. Weisman. We talk for an hour. I believe I candidly display my sanity and my total regret for my actions and then he sees my parents. I am within minutes of leaving. Wait, strike that. Why is Mom crying? Why is Dad crying? You want me to go where? Nooo! A mental hospital! How could you? If you loved me, Mom, you wouldnt make me go! Let me talk to Dr. Weisman. Im fine! I just want to go home; I just want to forget all this! Fruitless are these efforts. We drive to the hospital. The Crisis Intervention Unit. I dont understand. Im not in crisis and no one needs to intervene. Im surrounded by winos, heroin addicts and people strapped to beds screaming. I dont need to be here. Three hours later I am not; Im on my way to the psychiatric institute. One a.m. I arrive and I am alone. I talk to a doctor, and no, for the fiftieth time I dont hear voices and no, I dont think I can control other people and yes, I remember those objects you listed. I go to sleep and sometime in the next three days someone finally listens to me. I shouldnt be here. I leave the next day at 5: 30 in the evening. Im home, Mom. The emotions and experiences at the hospital are so numerous and deep I still cant elaborate on them. There is a word that can summarize those four days in a nutshell: HELL. Amazingly, however, the course of my life changed, for the better. Although by far the worst experience of my life, it may have been a blessing in a very immaculate disguise. After my altercation with Donnatal (a stomach antispasmodic) and my resulting visits to various facilities, I returned home. I began seeing a psychiatrist twice a week a person who truly understood how I felt, who helped me reach inside and express my genuine self. Ive attended a weekly session of family therapy with my parents. My life has been getting better. With my doctor, Ive talked through my troubles, analyzed my situation and for the first time, started thinking about myself. Ive started doing what I want to do, not what I think my parents, friends or teachers want me to do. That doesnt mean Ive turned into a narcissistic rabble-rouser; it just means Ive thought about Scott Campbell and what his interests are. In doing that, Ive found the most valuable thing I can find: myself. Ive found my identity and since then, Ive had an extraordinary time being me. Ive discovered my love of reading and knowledge and my bookshelf is full of novels waiting to be read. Ive also discovered my steadfast belief in social justice and have become involved in the Connecticut Green Party, the Animal Defense League, the Coalition to Abolish the Fur Trade and other organizations. Ive become a vegan, initiated a protest at a McDonalds and won the permission of my schools administration to set up a Vegan Outreach table at my school. Ive learned to rely on m yself and realize that I have the ability to achieve. Through a horrifying experience, Ive found my individuality and uncovered my goals in life. Maybe, in essence, I did kill a fake me and gave birth to the real Scott, an individual with a rejuvenated outlook on life and the desire to live it to its fullest. Mom, its me. Im back.

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